[Supernatural meets The Boys]
Nobody is stupid enough to venture into unknown territories, except for Ilya. Don't get him wrong! He never meant to enter that mysterious village.
Fate led him there to save, or be saved.
"Peekaboo!"
Beast is a cruel c...
If you're following me, then you already know from my notifications why I haven't published a new chapter in a while. I'm better now. Thank you ^-^
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A sick craving developed in Ilya's depths. A rumble in his stomach sounded like a roaring thunderstorm. This new craving was weird. Extremely sick and twisted.
What a vile little thought, Ilya sighed between his thoughts.
Striking green eyes shined with a golden center as lightning lit up the dark room. Black pupils pulsed as his eyes moved back and forth, looking, searching. Craving.
Ilya pushed his back off the comfort of the old bed. Onto two feet. Swayed with sagging shoulders. Brown fluffy hair covered his face.
He stood with only one thought in his mind—eat.
"I'm so hungry," Ilya moaned.
"Here." A kind voice came from a corner. "You can take my food. I don't need it anymore."
With a heavy slow motion, Ilya turned his head towards the place the voice was coming from. There he found another boy, sitting in a dark corner. So fragile and vulnerable. In a fetal position.
Another human?
The boy reminded Ilya of himself when he was cornered by Beast, all scared, little, and helpless.
Ilya couldn't make the boy's face. It was too dark to tell what he looked like. But the new boy seemed to be in no better condition than himself. They were both hostages in Beast's lair with ripped clothes and wounded limbs.
Ilya moved slowly, like a dead man walking, to take the bowl from the boy's hands. Ilya was attracted to a certain smell in that corner. Mmm. Ilya licked his upper lip. Delicious. He drooled over the anticipation of what food was waiting for him. The smell was too good to ignore.
Lightning struck again, illuminating the boy's face before Ilya's fingers touched the bowl.
Ilya took a step back. For a brief moment, Ilya caught the boy's face. That face didn't scare him. I looked familiar. Too familiar.
Kind. Friendly. Smiling.
Ilya unconsciously grabbed the bowl without steering his eyes away from the boy. Then he gazed down at the contents.
Five severed fingers.
"Don't worry," the boy said. "They're fresh, unlike yours."
Ilya froze when the boy chuckled. That cute laugh was also familiar. However, he was too distracted to check up on the boy again. It was hard to focus on anything but the chopped-up fingers on the bowl.
Human finger. Exactly five. One of them was a thumb.
His eyes went bigger. His stomach growled. His craving doubled.
Ilya then noticed his own fingers grabbing the bowl. They were stiff and turning blue. He could barely move them. They looked... dead. Whereas the severed fingers looked... freshly cut.
"Yes," the boy said. "They're mine."
Ilya raised his head to see the boy pulling his hands up. One of his hands was bleeding down to his elbow. It was missing all of its fingers.
"I-I can't," Ilya stuttered.
"Trust me. You need them more than me."
The boy was surprisingly sweet. And Ilya was surprisingly calm. A few severed human fingers didn't bother him. It made him drool.
Ilya dug his hand into the bowl and grabbed two soft yet firm fingers. He gripped them tighter, squeezing the blood out. They felt nice in his hand, so squishy and juicy.
Ilya felt disgusted with himself, yet he couldn't shake this craving away.
"I'm... so... hungry."
In a hurry and with great hunger, Ilya put the fingers in his mouth. He slurped and chewed. He hummed and laughed. He gulped the first pile and took another.
"Thank you," Ilya said with a mouth full of human meat.
His blood-stained mouth was happy, but his eyes were leaking tears of sorrow.
He couldn't feel his heartbeats anymore.
Another flashes of lightning and Ilya was able to see the boy's face clearly this time.
He looked just like him. The same hair, smile, and complexion. The same everything, down to the center heterochromia of his eyes.
Ilya stopped eating and studied the boy before the lights disappeared.
"Are you... Ned?"
Rrrrring!
A classic retro phone hanging on a wall rang. A beige cracked phone as old and decayed as this building. Colorless and pale, like the dead residents of this village. Its light was flashing red, like a warning sign.
Rrrrring!
"You better answer that." The boy retreated to his dark corner, hiding once again. "Quick."
Ilya dropped the bowl and walked towards the phone, but the ground started shaking. Ilya found himself leaning on the walls for support. Everything was shaking as if an earthquake hit the town.
Rrrrring!
Then, hands clutched his shoulders, shaking him. Ilya tried to look behind him to see who was shaking him, but he got pushed towards the phone.
Rrrrri—
Ilya crashed onto the phone, causing the handset to dangle by the cord. Ilya could hear someone yelling through the other end of the line, but he couldn't make up what was being said.
Ilya still felt hands on his shoulders, even though no one was touching him. Goosebumps ran along his arms.
He picked up the handset and raised it to his ear.
The voice that came from the other line was loud and gruff. A voice that sent chills down his spine. A voice he would never forget.
It shouted, "Wake up! Wake up, now!"
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In case you didn't get it, this was a dream. Or a nightmare. Ilya was having this unsettling nightmare when he fell asleep in the previous chapter.
